


The Great Practical Joke War

by Vanessa_Cocotea



Category: Doctor Who: Eighth Doctor Adventures - Various Authors
Genre: Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-02
Updated: 2013-05-02
Packaged: 2017-12-10 04:21:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781718
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vanessa_Cocotea/pseuds/Vanessa_Cocotea
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From 2008:</p><p>Eight and Iris indulge in an insane practical joke war stemming from a gift Iris gives Eight...</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Great Practical Joke War

**Author's Note:**

> This story includes an original character of mine - Daisy Norwood. I Introduced her in 2006 as a fifteen-year-old orphan the Doctor rescues from cruel guardians. I've done several stories with her, but only just now have an introductory story in the works. Go figure
> 
> Romana is in her second incarnation and Iris is in my favourite Scarlett Empress/Beryl Reid incarnation of hers. 
> 
> The library steps mentioned are like the ones in Terror of the Zygons.

Part One: And You Believed Her??

Daisy sat cross-legged beside the Doctor, who was on his back under the console - minus velvet frock coat, cravat, waistcoat and shoes, and with his sleeves rolled up and his shirt unbuttoned three or four buttons, fixing something or other. Daisy was passing him various tools upon request. He requested his carbodensis calibrator. He described it and she began searching. She found a small chocolate box that seemed to rattle. Puzzled, she stuck it under the console for the Doctor to see.

"Doctor, why is there a rattling chocolate box in your toolkit?"

"What?" He clambered out from under the console and stared at the box. He was completely baffled, then a slow grin spread across his face as he opened the box. Inside were what looked like cigarettes topped with a note - written in Gallifreyan. He read the note and chuckled.

"Oh, Iris, you old minx!" He looked at Daisy. "Iris put this here. I've mentioned Iris, haven't I?" Daisy nodded - and giggled. Iris was quite a colourful character. The Doctor continued, "It was as we said goodbye on her last visit. I gather this is a little thank you. She wants me to try some very different cigarettes." He sighed. "She knows I'm not a smoker. Tried once or twice, but it's not me. Anyway, in her note here, she says these are some of those cigarettes made from lettuce and used in films when there's a scene of children smoking. They are not supposed to be addictive and are harmless - relatively speaking." He looked at them. It would be just like Iris to play some prank on him and smoking these would make him have a laughing fit or something. She just might be trying to get him back for that disastrous Twister game. However, if they *were* made of lettuce, well, it might be an interesting experience. And he was always up for a new experience.

"I think I will try one. I'd offer you one, Daisy, but not only are you too young, I'm also not certain that this isn't some practical joke of Iris's and I don't know it would do to you. I think it best if you just kept an eye on me, okay?" Daisy nodded. The Doctor took a cigarette out of the box and lit it from one of the many candles about the console room. He took a cautious puff. Then another. He smoked for a minute or two and seemed fine. The scent seemed very familiar, even to Daisy. The Doctor suddenly became very interested in the piano. He dashed over and tinkled the keys at one end, then the other. He started giggling. He climbed up onto the top of the piano, scattering clocks to the floor. He sat well back and took to playing the same notes as before, but with his stockinged feet. He giggled even more enthusiastically. Daisy stared at him. Those weren't lettuce cigarettes. She had an uncomfortable suspicion. She started over towards the Doctor, who'd now started playing the same notes, or attempting to, at any rate, with his bottom. His giggles became quite hysterical.

"Ah, Doctor? Are you alright?" Daisy was looking very worried. He had now abandoned the piano and was riding all over the console room on the old-fashioned library steps - and singing. The *song* was quite unintelligible as his voice had become very slurred. Daisy had become quite alarmed and ran round after him, trying in vain to catch him. It was quite impossible. He was like that Energiser Bunny on steroids!

The TARDIS took a hand. She erected a forcefield just as the Doctor got to the side opposite the conservatory area. He crashed into it and tumbled back onto the top of the steps. He was out like a light, but had the goofiest look on his face. Daisy sighed. The TARDIS told her, telepathically, to take the Doctor to the sick bay. Daisy wheeled him through the corridors to the TARDIS sick bay where he spent several days, firstly, unconscious, then sick, then, finally, sound asleep. Daisy stayed with him the whole time. In the meantime, the TARDIS analysed the cigarette Daisy had given her. It was not lettuce - not even of any kind. It appeared to be a combination of a sort of fermented grape leaf from a planet the TARDIS couldn't identify - and good old Terran cannabis. The cigarette had made the Doctor drunk *and* high! Daisy's first instinct was to giggle, but she didn't. It really wasn't funny. The Doctor was going to love the analysis.

He recovered about a week later, including the five days he'd spent sound asleep! He chuckled at first when he heard the analysis of the cigarette, then a wicked gleam came into his eyes and he smiled, "Oh, Iris, just you wait!"

********

Part Two: Top That Iris - If You Can!

Daisy had given up. Watching a pair of centuries-old nutters trying to "out-prank" each other went way beyond the bounds of sanity. To say they had an imagination was a masterpiece of understatement. Some of it just managed to border on the edges of convention, but the Doctor's little contribution to their war after Iris's cigarette number, was inspired and made Daisy totally crack up.

He'd managed to sneak into Iris's bus - the Number 22 to Putney Common (Daisy still couldn't get round a London bus being a TARDIS!), and had rigged up a hidden barrage of pillows filled with the same contents as the cigarettes Iris had given him. Then one night, after an evening of carousing, Iris stepped innocently aboard her beloved bus. The split-second she got on the gangway, she was battered by a bombardment of not-particularly-user-friendly pillows. They came at her from all sides *and* the ceiling! The Doctor had constructed them so they would break on contact with whatever. He laughed himself silly from the "safety" of his TARDIS. Even Daisy had to suppress a giggle or two.

Iris, who ended up relatively ill for some time, was *not* amused. "DOCTOR!" She thought furiously to herself, sprawled on the floor just after the pillow attack, "YOU ARE GOING TO GET IT!"

********

It wasn't long after that that the Doctor received a summons to Gallifrey. He wasn't amused. Apparently, there was some new horror lurking in the universe and, not for the first time, the High Council wanted the Doctor to do their dirty work for them. He reluctantly arrived on Gallifrey and was directed to a waiting room - after a thorough and somewhat embarrassing search. The official who performed it said it was a new security procedure. The official then left saying the Doctor should remain in the waiting room and he would come for him when the president was ready to receive him.

It was three days later, when, just as the Doctor was getting beyond miffed, that the same official came for him and escorted him to the president's office. She looked up from her desk and enquired, "Well, Doctor, what brings you to Gallifrey?"

The Doctor looking puzzled, and a little suspicious, replied, "You. I got a summons telling me I was needed to sort out some new horror." He stared back at the president. He was now definitely miffed, especially when he heard her say,

"Doctor, I haven't summoned you for anything. There's nothing I need you to help with, for the moment." She replied, seemingly mystified. "But it is good to see you." They both turned sharply as they heard a giggle, that soon became a raucous guffaw, coming from behind the Doctor. The "official" standing behind the Doctor took off his visor-covered helmet. Iris grinned wickedly at the Doctor. "Gotcha." The Doctor didn't trust himself to speak. But he knew just how to make Iris pay. He left immediately and without a word - or a backward glance. Iris and Romana shared a conspiratorial grin.

********

A few weeks later, Daisy walked into the console room and found the Doctor reading in his chair. Things had been quite quiet since his wild goose chase to Gallifrey, courtesy of Iris. Daisy didn't think it would have taken the Doctor *this* long to get his revenge. He had promised the greatest prank of all time, one which would guarantee his winning the war and putting a stop to the nonsense. He must have done something while she was asleep at some point and it must be taking some time to work, because they'd yet to hear from Iris.

********

Iris checked the contents of the water supply to her bus. No problems. She'd been over every millimetere of her bus and checked and re-checked every single bit of it for anything suspicious. She kept her eyes and ears on full alert everywhere she went, wary of anything out of the ordinary. Nothing. She knew the Doctor would have plotted something spectactular for his revenge, but, as yet, he'd done nothing that she could see and she was becoming a nervous wreck, making a fool of herself over it everywhere she went. His last words to her had been, "When you least expect it...EXPECT IT!" He was driving her mad. She couldn't live like this. She couldn't eat or sleep or smoke or even drink! Finally, reluctantly, she decided to have it out. She located his TARDIS.

*******

"Doctor?"

"Yes?" He looked up from his magazine and smiled at Daisy. "What is it?"

"I thought you were going to get Iris back-with the 'Greatest Practical Joke Ever'. So when are you going to do it?"

He grinned broadly at her. "I've already done it." He went back to his magazine and refused to say more. Just at that moment, they were startled to hear the familiar wheezing and groaning and, then, to see a bright red Number 22 from Putney Common arrive right in the console room. Iris stomped out and stalked right up to the Doctor. He stood up and smiled at her. She looked quite dishevelled and quite a wreck.

"You're looking good. How are things?" He beamed.

"Don't you come the innocent with me! I want to know when you're going to get on with this famous practical joke of yours. I've got a life to lead, you know. So will you get on with it, please?" She glared at him.

"Oh, my dear Iris! I've already played my little joke on you." He grinned wickedly. "Good, wasn't it? Impossible to top, eh?" He was still grinning like a madman and rocking on his heels with his hands clasped behind his back.

Iris, slowly becoming furious, gaped at him. "But you haven't done anything." She said in slow measured words.

"Exactly."

"WHAT??" She wasn't sure she would be able to trust herself in a moment or two.

"Well, you see, Iris," He was still giving her that idiot grin and it wasn't helping her mood. "the greatest practical joke is *no* practical joke. I just got on with my life. Though, I must say, it was great fun watching you on the lookout for a more conventional prank." He was *still* grinning like a madman. "I do believe I've won!"

Daisy applauded. Iris's reply was unprintable.

FIN


End file.
